by Cale Plamann
He smiled back uncomfortably. On his sixteenth birthday, his father had received a Common Blessing from Saborell, the God of Merchants and Craftsmen, that allowed him to measure and fit clothing with absolute accuracy. His mother was forgotten.
Officially, the forgotten weren’t discriminated against, but many people whispered that the gods passed them over with their favors for a reason. Veronica tried to hide it, but every day, Micah could see how the sidelong pitying glances weighed upon her. Instead, she put every hope in her children. When Trevor was blessed with an Uncommon ability, Micah could have sworn that she was more excited than anyone else in the house, including Trevor.
As a forgotten, she faced daily struggles and would have had next to nothing on her own. Veronica was shunned in the marketplace and generally looked down upon by their neighbors. Unofficially, the forgotten weren’t even allowed to rent or purchase homes in their family’s comfortable upper-middle-class district.
Veronica was an exception and a sore point for their neighbors. Micah’s father met her as a young man when she was selling flowers by the side of the road just outside the slums and took a liking to her.
Jon was a good man who could look past something as small as the minor magical blessings that most citizens didn’t even use daily, but the same couldn’t be said about the other craftspeople of Basil’s Cove. Even on the day of their wedding, it had been impossible to quell all of the gossip about how she was marrying above her station, that the only reason a pretty girl like Veronica would marry a gangling man like Jon was his attunement and blessing.
To this day, Micah knew better than to bring up their wedding and neighbors around his mother. Mentioning her sister-in-law’s toast in particular was a great way to get stuck weeding the family garden, only to eat bland steamed vegetables for a week.
“Get a good blessing,” Esther ordered him, pressing her shoulder in between their mother and Micah so that she could wrap her arms around his lower torso. “Sandy says that you’re only going to get a Common ability and that you’ll never be as cool as Trevor. You need to get a good one so I can shut her up.”
“With that motive,” Micah laughed and tousled her hair, “how would I dare get something less than an Uncommon Blessing?”
“Good.” Esther nodded curtly, a gleam in her eye as she adopted a serious air. “Now that you know, let’s eat. Mom hasn’t even let me touch that cake for almost an hour while we waited for you to come home.”
After dinner, Micah lay down in his bed, mind racing. Sleep eluded him. It was paradoxical, really. As soon as he drifted off, he would learn his fate. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but no matter what he tried—counting, meditation, reciting pages from Ansom’s histories—nothing worked. Instead, Micah’s nervous energy kept him unsettled, tossing and turning deep into the night.
Finally, he stood up and put on a set of nightclothes. Maybe some fresh air would help. It certainly beat stewing in nervous energy and worrying with his eyes closed.
He stepped out into the small garden that his mother maintained behind their house and made his way to a wooden bench fixed to his home’s wall. Sitting down, he glanced up into the night sky. Even in the city, night was peaceful. Far away, Micah heard the bustle of the taverns and brothels, but in his neighborhood, there was nothing but the steady thud of the local constable’s spear on cobblestone as he paced down the street.
Thud. Micah never really looked at the stars. Thud. Every morning, he was up with the dawn, working with Keeper Ansom until sundown. Thud. Then it was back home to eat a quick dinner before going to bed and repeating the process. Thud. Other boys his age spent time on boys and girls. Thud. Chasing after each other all day in order to play giggling, breathless games under the stars. Thud. They probably didn’t stop for long to enjoy the night’s beauty either. Thud.
Micah opened his eyes. He was someplace else. A dimly lit fog surrounded him, and the only object he recognized was the wooden bench that he had fallen asleep on. He stood up hesitantly, glancing into the murky abyss.
“Human,” a genderless voice echoed through the emptiness of the space, “rejoice, for you have been blessed by the Sixteen.”
Micah’s heart started pounding in his chest. This wasn’t how it happened for Trevor. His brother simply had a dream about how to use his ability and woke up able to see his status sheet with the name of the ability printed upon it.
“As more than one god wishes to select you,” the voice continued, “the choice of which blessing to select shall be yours. You will only be told the name of the deity and the rarity of the gift offered to you. Choose wisely, as such an opportunity will never come again.
“Jiana, Goddess of Scribes, wishes to offer you an Uncommon Blessing,” the voice intoned evenly. “Mursa, Goddess of Magic and Moonlight, wishes to offer you a Mythic Blessing, and Ankros, God of Darkness and Struggle, wishes to offer you a Rare Blessing.”
Micah opened his mouth to respond. Clearly, he was going to take the Mythic Blessing. Mursa and Ankros were both Major Gods, their power orders of magnitude higher than the lesser deities that usually blessed humans. Even an Uncommon Blessing from one of them could outstrip a Rare or Mythic Blessing from a lesser god. Literally, the only blessing more powerful than a Mythic from a greater god would be to be made a Chosen, but each deity could only support one or two of those at a time.
“I apologize,” the voice interjected, slightly amused. “It is unusual, but there has been a change. Ankros has heard the offer from Mursa and amended his own. Ankros is now also offering a Mythic blessing.”
The empty, glowing fog sat in silence for a handful of seconds before the voice continued. “Please state the name of the god or goddess whose blessing you accept, and you will be expelled from this place to awaken with the power of their blessing in full force.”
Micah’s mouth flopped open, his initial answer caught in his throat. His pick of Mythic powers from greater gods. That was something out of a story, reserved for the rich sons of nobles born under auspicious stars. He marshalled his thoughts as he tried to make sense of the impossible situation. Having finally come to a decision, he opened his mouth to give his answer.
2
Mythic?
Micah woke up on the bench, the sun beating down into his eyes and his heart racing. Quickly, he sat up, trying to process the events of last night. He only knew one person with a Rare Blessing, and that was from an intermediate god. Stanley had been immediately recruited as an apprentice by Basil’s Cove’s archwizard.
He shivered in the chill morning air as he imagined what sort of favorable treatment he’d receive with a Mythic Blessing from a major deity. There was no question that the guilds in Basil’s Cove would start a bidding war over his services. They might even send him to the capital to train with the high nobility. Images of dreamy princesses, heaps of magical items, looted dungeons, and slain monsters flashed through Micah’s vision as he sat still, grinning like an idiot.
“Status,” he said, unable to resist any longer. His vision blurred and the status screen came up, a light blue roll of papyrus covered in tight and efficient lettering just as Trevor had described.
Micah Silver
Age: 16
Class/Level - XP
HP: 10/10
Attributes
Body 5, Agility 5, Mind 9, Spirit 8
Attunement
Moon 5, Sun 2, Night 4
Mana
Moon 10/10, Sun 4/4, Night 8/8
Affinities
Time 10
Wood 6
Air 5
Blessings
Mythic Blessing of Mursa - Blessed Return, Ageless Folio
Skills
Fishing 1
Librarian 3
Spear 2
Spellcasting 2
Micah nodded to himself. More or less average physical attributes combined with a strong Mind and Spirit. About what he had expected. The only real abnormality was his affinities. Unlike other a
ttributes and skills, affinities were more or less considered static. Although an affinity could be changed through powerful rites of magic, the difficulty and expense of such rituals meant that they were rarely performed.
Instead, a spellcaster was more or less defined by their starting affinities. That wasn’t to say that a caster couldn’t make do with weaker affinities, but affinities determined the mana efficiency of a caster’s magic as well as the speed that they learned new spells. Theoretically, a scrappy spellcaster could make do with weak affinities and perseverance, but in practice, affinities served as a sort of soft ceiling on a caster’s abilities. His affinities in Wood and Air weren’t bad, slightly above average as dedicated spellcasters usually had affinities in the 4-5 range. The Wood affinity in particular marked him as a potentially above average healer. Useful, but not nearly enough to justify a Mythic Blessing.
The 10 affinity in Time was something else. According to Ansom’s books, Time and Order/Chaos were the two primal fields of magic, much rarer and more powerful than their elemental counterparts, but poorly understood due to their rarity. Order/Chaos wasn’t an unheard-of affinity, albeit usually only wielded at exceedingly low affinities by archwizards.
The only problem was that all of their spells were incredibly powerful and hard to utilize. Even with a 10 affinity, there was almost no way that Micah would be able to learn Time magic without years of experience and the levels that went with it. Worse, given the magic’s rarity, the chances that Micah would find anyone able to tutor him in Time magic were just about nil. Although the strength and rarity of his affinity marked Micah as a potential prodigy, it existed just past his grasp, taunting him.
His attunements were much more standard. Awarded by the three Major Gods for acts done in their service, each attunement was associated with its own mana pool, the size and regeneration of which depended on a combination of Micah’s level and attunement. Night, Sun, and Moon mana all had slightly different properties when applied to spellcasting. Micah’s Moon mana worked well for all three affinities while the Night mana was only really useful for Air spells. As for the Sun mana? It was better than nothing, and he could use it as currency in a pinch.
Currency. Micah sighed. If he couldn’t catch the eye of some noble with his Mythic Blessing, he’d need to find a way to earn attunement sooner or later. All exchanges required either a barter of goods or an exchange of attunement. Daily goods usually only cost slivers of an attunement, a tenth of a point or less, but expensive objects such as enchanted weapons easily ran into the dozens of points. Even if he could barely use Sun mana, Sun attunement was the primary currency in human kingdoms. At least there it could be some use to him.
Finally, Micah called up the descriptions of his blessing. His face fell, and his elation over his abilities left him like the water from a shattered pot.
Blessed Return
Casting time: 1 minute
The user casts their cognition through time back into their own body, five years in the past. Their level, affinities, and attunement are all set to the level they were at five years ago. Skills are not reset, allowing the user to travel back in time with their skills at their current level. This ability is only usable once every five years (subjective time). 1/1 uses available.
Ageless Folio
Bound Item
The Ageless Folio takes the form of a tattoo on the user’s wrist. The user may freely withdraw the Folio, which takes the form of a thin book, at will. While holding the Folio, the user learns skills 20% faster and all of their thoughts are recorded automatically in their own hand. The Folio has an infinite number of pages and the user instinctively knows on which page any information rests. Notes taken in the Folio will remain in the Folio, even if the user utilizes Blessed Return, allowing the user to retain notes from a previous life. The Folio is blank when bestowed upon the user.
How in the hells was this Mythic? Clearly, the ability was powerful—anything that allowed someone to wind and coil time like a rope was insanely potent. Useful? That was a different question.
Theoretically, he could go back five years and train his skills, but Micah didn’t even know how that would work. Humans only gained access to their status screen at the age of sixteen. If he were to travel to when he was eleven, he wouldn’t even have any way of tracking his progress. Of course, he’d have to give up everything. His body, his attunements, any levels he’d earned. They would all be thrown away for the uncertain chance that the next iteration of his life would somehow yield a better result.
It was powerful in theory, but the idea of having to live his childhood once again drew a shudder from Micah. He needed adventure, to defeat monsters and conquer dungeons until his aura was fat and heavy with attunement. Returning to his eleventh birthday only to be scolded by his mother for every perceived misdeed was the exact opposite of what he craved.
He groaned, wondering what Ankros’ blessing would have been. The God of Darkness and Struggle wasn’t a popular subject in human kingdoms. The fact that he openly antagonized humans, sending monsters and barbaric Durgh after them so that humanity could “hone itself in combat” against his children didn’t earn the god many friends.
Even that life of isolation and distrust would be acceptable if he had a proper Mythic Blessing. For every blessed individual, their blessing was the core of their identity. A unique ability or skill that set them apart from others and gave them an advantage in combat. In every story of legend, the hero’s blessing was their signature move.
Rasdar the Bold had the Mythic ability to create a great dragon from flame that he could control with his mind. Nissia the Usurper could control the flow of all liquids, including the blood inside her opponent’s bodies. Even an Uncommon ability would let someone ignore poison, summon a powerful bound weapon, or strike someone with their minds.
Micah? He had a book that helped him learn faster and an ability that he couldn’t use without sacrificing everything. Admittedly, the book was useful as a utility skill, but its power was far from Mythic.
At least he had two skill ranks in Spears and Spellcasting. With a little bit of Wood and Air magic, he could become a neophyte battlemage and offer his services to an adventuring guild. Most of them were looking for people capable of casting healing spells, and Micah could already hold his own against low-level beasts, even without any magic.
“Micah!” Esther screamed, running out into the garden and jumping onto him, careful to avoid the tomatoes for fear of raising their mother’s ire. “You weren’t in bed! Did you get a blessing? Tell me what you have!”
He rocked back from her onslaught blankly before smiling wanly. It was true that his ability wasn’t properly Mythic, but the book alone wasn’t that bad. It was certainly better than the frequently mundane Common abilities.
“I guess Mursa spotted me studying magic all day, so she gave me a book.” Micah did his best to crack a smile, summoning the Ageless Folio for Esther to see. It didn’t look all that impressive. The book had cracked and battered covers, inlaid with basic geometric designs and wrapped around a handful of yellowing sheets of paper.
“Does it have spells or some sort of lost secret knowledge?” Esther looked skeptically from the book to Micah. “You promised that you’d at least get an Uncommon ability. I bet Sandy chores for a week. If I lose, you’re going to be the one doing those chores.”
“It is Uncommon.” Micah’s face strained under the weight of his forced cheer. “It gives me a 20% increase to learning skills and it has infinite space for taking notes. With this, I’ll be able to save years’ worth of research in becoming a wizard.”
“You have affinities, then?” Esther’s eyes were sparkling once again as she snuggled up against Micah.
“Wood 6 and Air 5,” Micah said, nodding at her. Desperately, he wanted to tell her everything, pour out his grievances over his decent but underwhelming skillset, but he knew better. Anything he told Esther, her best friend Sandy would know within hours. The rest of the s
treet would be in on the secret twenty-four hours after that. It had certainly happened before.
If Micah wanted to avoid everyone mocking him over his more or less useless ability, that was the only choice. Already he could hear it. “Mythic Micah.” Gods, it even alliterated. He’d never be able to live a name like that down.
“Super cool, Micah!” Esther jumped up from his lap, narrowly avoiding the tomatoes. “I’ll tell Mom and Dad right away! They’ll be so excited. Two Uncommons. Wait until Sandy hears that!”
He watched her scamper away, all energy and excitement. There was something about her enthusiasm that wore away at Micah. For one brief second, he’d had the world laid out in front of him, only to have it jerked away. He sighed.
No. It was time to stop dreaming about being a hero. The Mythic title was little more than a cruel prank, but the goddess did provide him with the power and affinities he would need to carve a comfortable life for himself. He took a breath, reorienting his expectations. He would never be a champion of freedom and justice rubbing shoulders with the nobility, but it was well within his power to help the local guilds clear the nearby dungeons and retire to research like Keeper Ansom.
He smiled weakly to himself as he got up from the bench, smothering the dreams he hadn’t dared to articulate even two days ago. From inside the house, his mother called out to alert everyone that breakfast was ready. His blessing might not be what he’d longed for, but it was certainly better than what a lot of people made do with.
He smiled weakly to the empty garden. Maybe if he kept repeating that to himself, he’d even start to believe it.